Of course there is the old joke about a dog named Lucky. One of my favorite dogs in the neighborhood is a little, white terrier whose front paws are pigeon toed. I was leaving my favorite café when he ran into the street. I called for him to return to the sidewalk, “Lucky! Come here lucky!” He bounded back onto the sidewalk. Its owner is a rather severe woman and I said to her, “Lucky is so cute!”

She replied, “His name is Chance.”

Lucky, Chance—what difference does it make? Every since that day I’ve dared not pet her dog because I don’t want to be glared at. Yet, I so often see the lil’ feller with his fuzzy head and his cute angled paws walking down the street with her. Doesn’t she realize I saved her dogs life? That’s what I would call lucky.

The new HR Director spoke between clinched teeth without opening them. Where did they find these people? Rumor had it that she was a candy heiress, but she did not wear a white uniform with black piping and a black bow halfway down her dress attached by a cameo of an old woman.

When it was announced that the law firm was moving from the Embarcadero to California Street Olivia, the new HR Director, announced, “We’ll be close to Tadich’s!”